Chapter 31 Part 31
Asher
The first snowflakes started falling as Asher chopped wood. The heat from the little cabin was fed to the stall, where One Star slept. He’d made it to the cabin late the previous night, but he’d still rubbed One Star down, and covered him with the blanket, before he started a fire in the cabin’s fireplace.
He’d barely slept the previous night, that damn video playing in his mind on a loop. He needed a distraction, so he started chopping wood at first light. He’d need to head out into the woods, too, and find a rabbit. He hadn’t packed food for himself, but two days without food wouldn’t bother him, if it came down to that.
He saddled One Star, and headed out, steering him up the hill. He didn’t really want to shoot a deer, not in winter. It would be a waste unless he left the carcass for the coyotes. The blood would attract them, anyway.
Two miles up, he found traces of deer, and dismounted One Star. He left the reins loose, knowing the horse wouldn’t go far. He trudged further up the hill until he found a spot where he could lean the rifle, and look for deer through the scope.
He waited for 30 minutes before he finally found a doe in his scope. Seeing she was still carrying her summer fat, he sighed. He really didn’t want to shoot her, but he did have to eat. He focused the scope on the doe again, and held his breath.
The faint sound of growls caught his attention, and fear sliced through him. The growls were coming from the direction where he’d left One Star. The doe’s ears pricked, and she ran off into the foliage, when the growling turned into yaps.
Asher was on his feet instantly, running back down the hill toward his horse. The rifle was slung over his back, and he swatted at branches in his line of vision as he raced to save One Star. When one caught him on the cheek, he could feel the warmth of his own blood from the slap of the twig.
He could hear One Star now, his hooves stomping on the ground, his whinnying sounding fearful. He rounded a tree just as a pack of coyotes leaped for One Star. The reins had gotten caught in a bramble bush, and Asher started yelling.
The coyotes didn’t even turn to look at him, yapping at One Star’s legs. He raised the rifle, and put the butt to his shoulder. He didn’t need the scope, as he fired off a warning shot. One coyote jumped on One Star, and went for his neck.
Asher started shooting the coyotes on the ground, afraid that he’d kill One Star, if he shot the one yapping at his neck. He ran toward them, hitting the coyote in the head with the butt of the rifle. The coyote yelped, releasing One Star, and Asher shot it in the head.
One Star’s eyes were wide, the whites showing his traumatized state. Blood seeped from his neck as Asher walked slowly toward him. “Easy, boy. Easy, now.” When One Star whinnied again, Asher’s worst fears were confirmed.
The wound in his neck was gaping, gushing blood, and he knew what he had to do. Asher blinked the tears away, and patted his horse’s muzzle. “I’m sorry, boy.” Asher loosened the straps and took the saddle off. One Star had blood frothing at his nostrils, and Asher could feel that pain deep in his soul.
He raised the rifle, and shot One Star in the head. He wasn’t going to let his horse suffer. It was bad enough, knowing that other coyotes would sniff him out, and eat his carcass. He picked the saddle up, slung it over his shoulder, and walked away, without looking back.
His anger had cost him his horse. He was not only mad at the world, but also furious with himself. One Star had been a companion for seven years, and now he was dead. He hoisted the rifle higher up on his other shoulder as he kept walking.
He’d be back at the ranch in about three hours if he kept the same pace. He didn’t really want to go back, but there was no way he could stay in the woods without a horse, and with no food. After the first mile, the weight of the saddle could be felt, but Asher ignored it, and kept with the grueling pace he set.
Blair’s truck stood in front of his house. He could make it out through the falling snow. His hair was wet from the flakes, and the cold was seeping into his bones. He was shivering uncontrollably, but he didn’t stop. He knew if he did, it was game over.
He saw Blair’s figure on the porch, his hand lifting to his face as he walked across the field. It took a few seconds, but then Blair was running toward him, and he felt relief flood him. What felt like hours was only minutes before Blair reached him.
“What the hell happened to you?”
Asher knew what he must look like, his jacket and hair wet with snow, the blood now dry on his face. “Had…to…shoot…One…Star.”
“Come on, give me that saddle,” Blair said, as he took it from Asher’s shoulder. One arm went around his back, and together they walked the last mile back to Asher’s house. Blair let the saddle fall to the wooden porch, and opened the front door.
He took the rifle from Asher, and leaned it against the wall, before closing the door again. He helped Asher take his jacket off, the jersey, and the shirt underneath. “Get in the shower, now.” Asher nodded his head, and trudged up the stairs.
He pulled the gloves off his stiff fingers and set the water on hot. He undressed slowly, his jeans sticking to his thighs. Everything was wet, adding to the fact he felt so cold. The water burned his skin, but he gritted his teeth, and remained under the spray of water until the bone-chilling cold was gone.
Downstairs, Blair handed him a cup of coffee, and looked intently at him. “Why were you here?”
“I came to check on Maggie. She wanted to leave last night, but I talked her out of it. When I got here this morning, the truck was already gone, so I checked, and she packed everything. I think she went back to the Lansing house.”
“It’s for the best,” Asher said, and sat down on the couch.
“What the hell happened?” Blair sat down next to him, gripping his own coffee mug in his hands.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s over.”